


Told Them So

by katikat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 08:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: A what-if ficlet, set in ep 107. What if El Noche did not take Mac with him to Mexico? Riley’s POV.





	Told Them So

Riley’s felt anxious ever since she lost visuals of Mac, ever since he and El Noche disappeared from the surveillance system. And when Jack then calls them from the woods and tells them that he doesn’t see Mac anywhere, her anxiety skyrockets. She knew this was going to happen, she  _knew_ it! They should’ve pulled Mac out at the first sign of trouble.  _Damn it!_

And then Jack finds the tire tracks - and fresh blood. The tire tracks mean they had a car waiting for them - and  _of course_ they did, that was the whole point, to have El Noche lead them back to his secret compound, they just didn’t count on Jack getting held back at the prison and losing sight of Mac, that was not a part of the plan - the plan that sucked from the get-go, it would’ve sucked even if it worked, and Riley told them so, she  _told_ them!

The blood, though, the blood’s more ominous. It means that something else went wrong, something that led to Mac bleeding. Because Riley’s  _positive_  that the blood is Mac’s. She just knows it and Jack and Thornton know it, too, they aren’t even trying to pretend that it isn’t so, that would be wishful thinking and a waste of time. Time that Mac doesn’t have. Because if he’s bleeding, it’s even more imperative that they find the car El Noche’s men used and–

“Jesus Christ!” Jack whispers into his phone.

Riley stops typing and looks up. “Jack…?” she asks softly, heart hammering, because Jack sounds shocked,  _scared_.

“Dalton? Talk to me!” Thornton barks out.

They can hear rustling over the phone; Jack’s running through the undergrowth, pushing branches and foliage aside. Then everything suddenly becomes louder but his voice turns more tinny and distant; he must’ve put them on loudspeaker. 

“Riley, call an ambulance, now!” he yells, and there’s a thump as his phone hits the forest ground. “They  _didn’t_ took him, they left him here! They-they…  _Jesus_! Jesus, Mac. They  _stabbed_ him! There’s blood everywhere! Call an ambulance!”

Thornton turns to Riley to order her to do exactly that. But Riley can’t. She can’t because she’s frozen, unable to move or even breathe. Because this is it,  _this_ is what she was afraid of, what she dreaded, that someone would get to Mac, that someone would find out who he is and-and  _hurt_ him - and they won’t be there to help him.

Thornton calls for help herself.

And Riley, she just sits there, wide-eyed and trembling, listening to Jack, to his desperate, pleading voice - _“come on, buddy, please,_ please _, don’t do this to me, Mac, please, breathe, just breathe for me, kid, don’t-_ don’t _…”_  - and she wonders if it’s possible to hear someone’s heart break.

* * *

She wants to yell at them “I told you so!” so badly, so  _very_ badly. Because they might be soldiers and  _super secret_  agents but they don’t understand prison, they don’t get what it’s like, and she  _told_ them so! And now she wants to throw that in their faces!

She doesn’t.

Because when Riley arrives at the hospital in Texas several hours later - Thornton stayed behind at the HQ in LA to clean up the mess her  _oh so genius_ plan created - she finds Jack in the waiting room, sitting there slumped and with his head in his hands, looking like his world’s fallen apart. And for Jack - for the guy who’s watched Mac’s back since Afghanistan - it really did.

She approaches him slowly and swallows hard, seeing all the blood; it’s on his uniform, his hands, his face, even on his shoes! She feels all jittery with the need to ask for news but at the same time, she’s scared to do it. Because what if-what if Mac died since they last spoke? What if–

Jack looks up; his eyes are red-rimmed and wet. “He’s in the surgery,” he says hoarsely. “They took him in the minute we arrived and I haven’t heard anything since.”

And Riley feels so relieved -  _he’s not dead, he’s not dead, he’s not dead_ \- that she drops down onto the uncomfortable plastic chair next to Jack and lets out a long, shuddery breath. When she has herself back under control, she asks simply, “How bad?”

“Bad,” Jack responds quietly, rubbing his face. “They stabbed him in the back, several times. The EMTs thought his lungs, his kidneys might be affected.”

Riley just nods because she doesn’t know what to say to that. She has no words of comfort for Jack. Because, even though she didn’t say it aloud, seeing him so devastated, she’s still angry at him. And at Thornton. If they just listened to her, this never would’ve happened.

Twisting his hands, Jack whispers, his words startling her, “You were right, Riley. This was a terrible plan. He -  _we_ \- should’ve never agreed to it when Thornton brought it up. It was too risky, too-too half-cooked, too–” He shakes his head.

“And when it all started going down the drain, I should’ve pulled the plug. I knew that if we asked Mac, he would’ve insisted on staying put, but that’s  _exactly_ why I’m there, to put the kibosh on his  _dumber_ plans, to stop him from going too far, to tell him when it’s just too damn much. And I failed at that - I failed  _him_ ,” he adds harshly, his voice full of self-recrimination.

She doesn’t tell him it’s not true. Because that would be a lie and he wouldn’t believe her anyway. So, she just reaches out and takes his hand, heedless of Mac’s blood now crusted on his skin, and she holds on, praying and pleading with anyone who’s listening for Mac to make it, for him to be okay. 

Because if he isn’t, if he-if he  _dies_ … then she’s not sure any one of them will ever be okay again.

* * *

It takes hours for them to get any news.

Thornton calls to inform them that El Noche escaped, they didn’t manage to find and stop him before he slipped across the border. Later, if -  _when!_  - Mac’s okay again,  they will care. Right now, neither Riley, nor Jack give a damn.

Then the doctor comes to find them. She looks exhausted, drained and sweaty, but she informs them that Mac made it through the surgery. She warns them that he’s not out of the woods yet, not completely - he still might lose one of his kidneys, the damage’s rather extensive - but he’s alive and that’s the most important thing.

Riley’s so relieved that her knees turn to rubber. She’s about to sit down when Jack turns to her and hugs her hard, almost crushing her in his arms. She wants to protest, but then she realizes that he’s shaking, so badly that she fears he might actually shake apart.

So she wraps her arms around him and hugs him back, and when she does it, she hears him whispering, “I was sure he was going to die, I was sure of it, so sure… there was so much blood…”

And she whispers back, “He’s going to be fine, you’ll see, he’s going to be  _just fine_ …”

* * *

And many,  _many_ hours later - after Riley drives Jack back to his motel room for a quick shower and a change of clothes, after they report back to Thornton, after they sit with Mac for most of the day and long into the night, waiting for him to wake up - when Mac finally opens his eyes and responds to Jack’s tearful, “Hey,” with a small, tired smile - Riley’s glad that she was right. Mac’s going to be okay, after all.


End file.
